


Promises to keep

by Kaiv



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Canon(ish), Hawke/Fenris implied, Hurt/Comfort, I refuse to accept that I have to leave someone in the fade, Inquisitor is in the tags but he doesnt even have a line, M/M, Purple Hawke, so I fixed it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3842593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiv/pseuds/Kaiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little story about how life keeps beating Hawke to the ground, and yet he still stands up again every time. And also about how you're never really alone, even in the worst moments.</p><p>(My  rewrite of Here Lies the Abyss because I don't agree with bioware in this and because I think Hawke is too stubborn to just accept the fade rules.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises to keep

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any typos or errors, no beta for this :)

          No one ever expected Garret Hawke to be a hero. He was no Hero of Ferelden sacrificing for the people, no Inquisitor giving his life for a cause. He was the jester, always with a joke on the tip of his tongue, always with a smile and never taking anything seriously. The fool driving everyone crazy with the most inopportune comments and actions. The proof being that even in the fade, with demons whispering their worst secrets and fears, he still laughed, still made light of the situation. Even when the demon reached its poison too deep. _You are going to fail them. As you failed your mother and sister. Over and over._ He gripped his staff tighter, but his smile didn’t falter. _As you failed your father._ His knuckles went white but he still found a dirty joke to share and make Alistair blush.

Minutes in the fade pass like months and years can feel like a second, it only depends on what will hurt you more; and it always know what will hurt more. _What has magic touched that it didn’t spoil?_ He almost laughed at that. Fenris’ voice, hoarse and full of rage as it was a long time ago, before it softened with love. _You will fail him as well._ His heart ached but his smile only grew wider as he threw another joke at the Inquisitor. That kid that everyone hoped would save the world, a knight in shining armour with a damn heart so big that insisted on saving the world even if no one thanked him for it. Unlike Hawke himself, Trevelyan looked like a hero; the people even saw him as holy with that whole Andraste thing. Garret liked him, even with The Inquisitor's optimistic view of the world and faith that he could save them all. _You will fail him too._

The fade drained everyone. He could see them all being dragged by their own demons and wondered what the voices whispered to them; a part of him asking if they were hearing the same as him. _Oh, you selfish boy, you want to know if anyone will share this guilt with you?_ A cruel laugh filled his mind and his chest tightened with shame. _Of course not, they blame you as well._ Mask the pain with another inopportune joke; get everyone to roll eyes at him. Feels good, feels like home. _There’s no more home for you. Your made it all burn._ Fire flowing from hands that fought to stay still as they slayed demon after demon. _You are like a forest fire, burning everything that you touch._

The Demons whispered in every voice he ever missed, even the ones he couldn’t remember anymore, or so he chose to believe. His mother’s grief twisted and turned until it sounded like hate. _Bethany is dead because of you! I wish you had died instead of her._ An old pain blossoming again in his heart. _You even failed to protect me in the end._ He wished that Fenris was here to hold him. The demon even whined as his loyal mabari, dead in the fires of Kirkwall. _Poor loyal soul, giving up his life for your wrong choices. Still you left him rotting among abominations._ Trevelyan asked if he was okay, even if the Inquisitor himself looked like he would go mad and Garret wished he knew what lies the demon whispered to the kid.

They kept walking, fighting with fire and rage until the end was so close that he allowed himself to hope again; always a bad habit of his. They fought that last demon, their blood staining the sickly green of the fade, the Nightmare still whispering in their ears, but they still won. As they all ran to the portal, his hope grew so big his smile was real. Still, there was no surprise when his hope crumbled with one last evil joke: one must stay. One last sacrifice for those who already lost so much.

The Nightmare was a colossus between them and the world, and someone had to stay to keep it occupied. His mind raced as everyone discussed, tried to find a way. The Inquisitor had to go; he had a world to save. He had the mark upon his hand, but more important, he was barely a child and still had too much to live. Alistair was the first to offer to stay, but the Grey Wardens needed to be rebuilt and the man didn’t fought a damn Archdemon just to die in the fade, he had a family to come back to. This all went through his mind in seconds while the others discussed and in that moment he understood why he came all this way. It was actually a simple choice, he was the expendable one, the one that was never a major piece in the universe stupid chess game. Time to sacrifice the pawn to win the game.

Magic flickered on his staff and before anyone could react; he acted. “Hey guys, don’t hate me but I'm tired of this discussion.” His voice had a sobriety people rarely saw and in the split second The Inquisitor took to understand what was happening, his wave of magic was already pushing them all into the portal. No one expected him to be hero, not him. They expected that from Alistair and kept an eye on him, but Hawke? Garret Hawke, the man that never grew past his teenager years? Maybe that’s why they all looked so surprised as the portal dragged them in, theit efforts meaning nothing against the magic. “Tell Fenris-” The words caught in his throat as he saw the pain he would cause in Fenris’ eyes, the rage and betrayal the elf would feel. “Oh, he knows.” He watched them disappear and the portal shrunk until there was nothing left but him and his demons.

His heartbeat sounded like drums and he never felt so lonely in his life, every other time that karma took a hard hit on him, he had someone. He had Carver, he had his friends and he had Fenris but now he was utterly alone. He swallowed the lump in his throat and the tears that tried to come, and finally turned to face his fate. He didn’t regret it, he would do it again a thousand times but, Maker, how he wished there was another option.

Fear. That was the primary emotion engulfing him, fear running on his veins and clenching on his heart as he stared into the Nightmare’s countless eyes, fear that made his skin cold and damp, fear that made him tremble and pray, but there was also relief. Relief because the others went through and the world maybe could be saved now, an enormous relief because everyone else would have a chance to be happy and it didn’t cost him a life this time. For Fenris he allowed the tears, the broody elf that would die for him without a thought. His friend, his demise, his love and, right now, his pain. He was glad Fenris wasn’t with them, it would be harder to push him away too. “I’m sorry, love. I know I promised.” He whispered into the stale air and endured the laugh that the demon screamed in his ears. He mourned the broken promise with bitter tears, and could have mourned for hours, but it wasn’t to dwell in self-pity that he stayed.

Hawkes don’t give up. Father repeated it often to them so that they could keep going. That was the voice kept him on his feet and not on his knees when the Nightmare stepped closer. The fear was suffocating, but he wouldn’t go down without tasting the blood of that thing. “Come on, you ugly fucker. Bring it on.” A grin spread wide on his face as he lifted the staff, the bright gold of his fire magic pushing the darkness of his heart away.

There’s nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing to lose. Garret never believed in that cliché, but when he found himself on his knees, blood pooling around him and no strength left to fight; the choice came clear as day. The blood glistened, warm and red around him, and he had nothing to lose. The blood called him, beautifully alive in that world of death, and he had nothing to lose. He silenced all the voices in his head: Father, Fenris, Varric, Isabela, Anders, Aveline, and Carver… All the loved voices that told him this was a bad idea. He pushed them all away, lowered his head and laughed with a tinge of despair and a lot of insanity staining his voice as his palm came clashing in the pool of blood. “I’m not done, you son of a darkspawn. I’m not fucking done until you’re dead and gone.” The magic came easy, feeding on his fear and despair as his blood twisted and churned all around him. It sang. He let the magic take him, consume him all. Take everything and keep them safe.

The world turned into a blur of red and pain, but it only lasted seconds, or it was days? He couldn’t remember. When the monster came crashing like a colossus, the ground crumbling beneath it, he took a few moments to believe. It was dead. “I fucking won.” His voice was a wet whisper, blood dripping from his lips and nose, his hands covered in blisters and gashes. “Hey guys, I won.” He fell to the floor with a smile on his lips, the demons'  voices all silenced. “Fenris, I fucking won.” He closed his eyes and tasted blood and ash on his throat.

Peace at last.

Peace that lasted only for a moment, a blissful moment of unconsciousness. He opened his eyes and pain shot from every corner of his body. Confusion took over and he blinked slowly, registering the surrounds. “Where…” The memories came back in a rush that made him dizzy. The fade, the portal, the nightmare. Blood magic. “I’m alive.” Relief was the first emotion to come when survival instinct kicked in, but despair followed too quick. He was alive, but had no way of going back home, that was the Nightmare’s last strike. In the end, he lost. “Oh maker, I’m alive.” Despair tinged his voice and he had no strength to fight, to get up and finish the work of the monster. He had no magic left in him. He had nothing but his pain and his sorrow.

He stared at the green sky until his vision was blurry with tears. He cried without shame, like he never allowed himself to. Cried for father, for mother, for Bethany and Carver. He cried for Lothering and for Kirkwall. He cried for those lost in the war. He cried for his friends until it hurt his chest. He cried for Fenris until he couldn’t breathe anymore and when he thought his tears had dried and he had nothing left to cry for, he cried for himself. He cried until his consciousness gave up and darkness took over again.

_“Hush, boy.” A warm hand on his forehead, gentle fingers caressing his hair. “No need for tears, come on.” Warmness around him. The familiarity of a hug. “Father is here, everything is going to be alright.”_

_He wanted to say that it wouldn’t be alright, but he couldn’t remember why. He cried again and buried his face on Father’s familiar scent. “I’m alone and hurt.”_

_“I’m here with you, son. Remember what I said? I will always be with you.” Malcom’s voice. Calm and soft, soothing. Gone._

_“I saw you die. I saw.” His own voice sounded strange. Young. Tired. Weak. He was so tired he could sleep forever._

_“Yes, you did, but I’m still here.” Big hands wiped his tears away and warm eyes, so like his sister’s, smiled at him. “You’ll never be alone, now **wake up**.”_

His eyes opened again and pain came gushing over him. Why he couldn’t just die? Everything hurt so much; he just wanted it to end. He remembered his dream, his father’s voice and touch. “Fucking Nightmare, do I have to get up and kill you again?” His voice was but a broken whisper, but he still found a spark of energy to gall.

“Watch your mouth, boy. Don’t think I will not slap you just because you’re as tall as me.”

He sat up in a blink, ignoring the excruciating pain that screamed in his body. “Father.” He stared at the man in front of him. Malcom Hawke. Just as the last time he saw him. Tall and proud, streaks of grey in his beard and eyes he saw every time he looked in the mirror. “Dad.” He reached a hand, but retreated it, afraid the ghost would vanish if he touched it.

The ghost smiled and reached a hand to him, caressing his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you real? Alive? I saw you die. In Lothering. So long ago.” His voice was breaking, each word hurting to come out. It couldn’t be real. The demons, of course. “Please, no more tricks. I am tired. Take my magic if you want, take my soul. Just let me die.”

“Garret. Stop this.” The ghost’s voice hardened as he moved the mage’s chin up. “I’m not alive, but I’m no trick. This is the fade, my element as much as yours.” He stared into his son’s eyes. “Don’t let them win.”

Garret took a deep breath and looked into his father’s eyes. Golden and warm just like his own. Just like Bethany’s. They felt real, as the touch on his face, as the faint smell of lyrium and smoke. “What do you want from me?” Even if it was a trick, it was better than the empty loneliness from moments ago.

“For you to get up and go home. This is not your place.” A warm light escaped from the ghost’s hands, involving the broken man in front of him. “And Hawkes don’t give up.” The ghost smiled a side grin that his elder child learned to mimic before he could remember.

The light felt warm and familiar, like everything he ever loved gathering together around him and suddenly he could breathe without pain. “I can’t go home.” He spoke after the light was gone and the dread feelings came back to him. “The portal closed. I saw.”

The ghost sighed and stood up, dusting his robes. “Son, remember what I told you about magic? It doesn’t follow the rules you’re used to.” Malcom lifted Garret up, wiping the blood from his son’s face with the sleeve of his robe and eying him from head to toe before bursting in laugh. “ Maker, you’re taller than me.”

He couldn’t help but laugh too. His father’s laugh had that power, you couldn’t just ignore it. “Taller than Carver and he never forgave me for that.” He grinned and straightened his back, a sadness stirring in his chest as he noticed his father didn’t look as old as he remembered. Maker, how young his parents were when they were all together.  In fact, Malcom looked just a few years older than himself and that scared him.

“ Carver never quite understood why you and your sister had something he couldn’t have and felt he was less because of that, and I was no help in making him see. I failed to show him the wonderful skills he had, skills you or Bethany could never hope to have.” He shook his head and motioned for the other to follow. “Sometimes I wish I could have shown him that, but I couldn’t. Magic was easy; I could teach what I learned all my life… but a warrior? All I knew about warriors was how to fight them.” He sighed and shook his head again. “But I digress. If we had more time we could talk endlessly, but we have to get you out of here.”

Garret followed his father around the green landscape, vaguely noticing that no demons lurked around them. “Well, we have time; we are in the fade, what are a few hours more?” He had his father back with him, all he wanted his whole life. So many questions, so many advice he needed and he wasn’t ready to let it go so quickly.

“No. Every second you spent here it gets harder to send you back, every second this place takes a bit more of you.” The ghost quickened his pace, looking around for something.

“But, father , I have so much to ask you.” He tugged on Malcom’s robes, forcing the other to face him. “ Listen. You left and we were barely children! Carver and Bethany were actually children! We had to keep going and I had no fucking idea of how- ” He stopped and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Do you know how many nights I lay awake wishing you could come and talk to me? To tell me what to do?” Garret wiped his face roughly, fists flying to grasp into his father’s robes. “I saw my mother die and I could do nothing!”

The ghost stared at those golden eyes for a second. Leandra’s eyes even if the colour was his. “I do know. I watched every step you all took.” He gently moved Garret's hands from his clothes and hugged his son. He missed this for so long, as he missed his whole family. “You did the best you could and I’m proud of you.”

Garret leaned in the hug, a weight he hadn’t noticed was there lifting from his shoulders. “I’m sorry.” His voice broke again and he hugged his father tighter. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect them. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.”

“Hush, boy. No more tears.” Malcom pulled away and wiped his son’s face with the pad of his thumbs. “ I’m here, but I’m dead. You have a home to go back. You have friends. You have a brother that probably wants to rip your head off right now.” He smirked motioned Garret to keep walking. “And I have a son-in-law that I’m sure wants to rip your heart out of your chest. Oh, don’t look so surprised, Garret, I always suspected you preferred men. No big deal.”

He blushed and scratched the back of his head. “To be quite honest, I always did, I just never found someone that was serious enough to tell you guys. Fenris is just different. I mean, he hates magic, he never laughs at my awesome jokes, and he is grumpy and jealous, but still… He is caring, loyal, and sweet in his own way.” He kicked a rock on his way, suddenly embarrassed. “I just- I love him, you know? Like I never thought I could love someone.”

Malcom nodded with a smile. “I know exactly how you feel. When I first met your mother, she was a noble, one of the people I despised and despised me back, but still… I fell for her in a whim.” He laughed briefly, shaking his head. “Love is a kind of magic, sometimes you just can’t control it.”

He nodded, fidgeting with his staff. “The first time I met him, it was so weird, we got into a damn trap and there were slavers and we almost died. Carver was so pissed at me, but the only thing I could do in the end was notice how fucking handsome the glowing elf was.” He stopped for a moment, trying to find words. “First it was just physical attraction, he was so different from everything I’ve ever knew, but then, things changed. Little words and actions, he let me know him better and I let him know me. It felt… Like home. Well, things were going great until he decided to dump me for three years without explanation, but still everyday he used a red handkerchief I gave him. Tell me, what I was supposed to understand from it?” He laughed weakly. “First I was outraged, but then I realized; I have to respect his time. He is the man I love and he need his space. No matter the reasons, I need to give it to him.” Garret stopped and laughed again, embarrassment flushing his cheeks. “Ah. Sorry, I just blurted out my love story.”

Malcom stopped stared at his son for a long time before speaking again. “You grew up. Even if you try to mask it with humour.” He started to walk again, a shadow of a smile on his lips. “When you were little, I dotted too much on you. I knew that, but I couldn’t help, I took so much from you, from the normal life you could’ve had…. I just had to give something back. Later I worried. Worried that I let your ego grow too much, that you wouldn’t learn the value of the little things and that life would take you to wrong paths.”

“Wow, thanks for the faith, dad.” Garret put an exaggerated offended expression on his face for a moment, for the sake of acting. “But yeah, I know what you mean. I see now that sometimes I believed myself invincible and that was far from truth. I paid the price for that.”

They walked in silence for a while, the ghost and his son, the two did look quite similar at first glance, but if you looked closer you could see more, the resemblance in the way they walked, the way they held on the staff and how their shoulders weighted. You could almost see the pain heaving in both of their shoudlers. They walked for a long time in a scenery that changed nothing or changed too much in a whim, but the ghost knew his way, he’d been here for a long time. When they stopped, it was in place that seemed no different from the other hundred they passed by: a table, a book, candles in a candlestick and a faint buzzing of magic.

“Here.” The ghost spoke as he flickered the pages on the book, lighting the candles with silent magic.

“How’s this creepy place so different from the others?” He peeked over his father shoulder and saw only gibberish on the book.

“This one is a piece of my mind, I can shape it on my will.” The ghost said absently and started to mumble an incantation, white energy starting to swirl in front of him.

“What does it mean? Wait.” He looked from the portal forming to his father, an anguish forming in his stomach. “We could go together, right? There is no demon to keep one of us here. Carver would be so happy. Ah, I need to make Fenris ask you for my hand in marriage. And we could introduce you to Varric, you- You would like his stories so much. Isabella will try to seduce you, maybe. I can ask her to. You- You have to meet the Inquisitor, we can prank him together…” He was babbling, he knew it, but if he stopped, he would have to think and realize he was losing his father again.

Malcom finished his incantation, the portal flickering and twisting in a warm light, so different from the sickish green of the fade magic. “Garret, you’re not a child anymore.” His voice was stern, but soft as his hands shaped the portal. “I’m gone from that world, this body being an echo of what I’ve been, brought here because you needed me.”

“I still need you!” He all but yelled; all the pain and despair he felt those years coming out in his voice. “ I was not ready for you to go! I am **not** ready, ok? I had to grow up and pretend all was ok when it was not… Now you tell me I have to leave you behind again?” A sob shook his shoulder and he roughly wiped his eyes, rage mixing with sadness as his voice broke. “You want to tell me it’s fucking fair?”

Malcom pulled his son close and hugged him tight, a stream of tears coming out from his tired eyes for the first time. “Son. There’s nothing I want more than to go with you. To hug Craver and apologize for not being the father he needed. To meet Fenris and the little family you found in Kirkwall, to meet my grandchildren if I happen to have any someday. To be part of your lives and feel what I could just watch from afar all those years. ” He pulled back and pressed his forehead on his son’s, hands gripping on Garret’s shoulders. “But I’m dead. As much as it hurts you to hear, I am dead. I can’t go with you and I won’t keep you here to die with me.” His grip tightened. “I love you. I couldn’t be more proud of the man you grew up to be. Please, tell Carver I love him.”

“Dad. No. Please. Don’t.” He saw what was coming just a second before it happened, he tried to hold on his father but it was too late. Garret did the same and he would do it again, but, maker, how it hurt to be on the other side. He felt the ground vanishing from beneath his feet and a force pulling him as he watched his father just stand there, the fade dead and ominous around him. “Father…” He wanted to scream, but it came barely a whisper as the light got brighter and brighter around him. All turned white and he couldn’t see his father anymore, but he still heard a whisper all around him.

_“I love you, son.”_

When he opened his eyes, pain surged everywhere again, but it was different. It was warm and _alive_. He looked around him and saw the blue sky and the pine trees. Real. Alive. “ Fuck.” He muttered the curse and tried to put into that one world all that he was feeling: joy, relief, sadness, regret. The memories came in a steady flow and he let them. He saw the horrors of the fade again, he saw everyone falling through the portal, he saw his fear and despair, and he saw the moment he gave up. He also saw hope, saw his father’s smile and felt his hug. It hurt, it would always hurt, but he wouldn’t waste his second chance in bitter regret, his father gave him this chance to live again and he would live it. He had a promise to keep.

He walked for days, munching on some elfroot when he could find, hunting some nugs when he was strong enough. It was hard, but he kept moving. Hawkes don’t give up. He stopped to rest when his legs couldn’t carry him anymore and was up before dawn every day, he didn’t have a map but something seemed to pull him in a certain way and when he closed his eyes he could see golden eyes telling him to keep going. He clung to life with a strength he did not have.

When he finally reached the gates of Skyhold he looked like hell, scraggy beard and dried blood covered his face, road dust and rips covered his clothes, but as he pulled the gates open he thought he couldn’t be happier. He noticed he was wrong when he marched through the courtyard. Fenris. Lyrium tattoos glowing bright and menacingly as he very clearly threatened the Inquisitor who was trying to calm everyone. A smile grew on his face and he couldn’t stop it. He was alive. It wasn’t a dream.

“ Hey guys, come on, don’t fight. There’s a piece of me for everyone!” His grin grew even wider as they both turned to them,  surprise written all over their eyes.  Garret was the jester, always with a joke on the tip of his tongue, always with a smile and never taking anything seriously. Even his own death. For some reason the elf’s anger didn’t diminish as he planned and that felt so much like home that he couldn’t help but laugh. “Love, if you’re going to hit me, please wait until I can eat a hot meal?”

Fenris pushed everyone out of the way and grabbed Garret by the shirt, his tattoos glowing like a beacon. “You. Stupid. Brainless. Idiot.” He pointed each word with his rage, weighting between beating Garret to a pulp and hugging him and never letting go. "I thought I had lost you." 

Garret smiled and let the tears run down his face. “Hey. I had a promise to keep , couldn’t let something small like the fade keep me from it, right?” Fenris’ body crashed hard into him, the pointed armour hurting like hell, but he never welcomed a pain so much. It felt good. It felt like home. "You'll never lose me and that's a promise."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for happy endings so, hope you all liked it!


End file.
